Remembering the Past
by AzoNintendo
Summary: A collection of small stories about each character, At least all the ones you care about. Rated T just in case.
1. Chapter 1

**I really need to get this story idea down... And I have time to kill, so what the heck.**

**Now, my College story has gone on longer than my other stories, and it has so many plots that... I don't know how to end it... So it will never end! Muahahaha!**

**Erm, just kidding. But I _do _need a break. I thought maybe I should write this, an idea I've had for a long time indeed. Instead of one big huge story, how about little stories for each character? And speaking of little... They could be kids. A little back story, y'know? But at different points in their kid-life. I think I'll only go as young as 5th grade, though. I know a lot about it since that was the last one I was in... So yeah, write from experience, kind of...  
**

**Oh, and all the kids will be in their respective worlds. Y'know, New York, Sarasaland, whatever.  
**

**I'm gonna start with Princess Daisy, because I've liked her lately for some reason. **

* * *

_Sarasaland_

The air was warm, gossip was floating, and every fifth grader in Petunia Elementary School was talking, flirting, and laughing.

Except Daisy.

She was figuring out who to pass the ball to.

"Daiz! Over here!" Ryan yelled, flailing his arms. No, too risky.

"I'm open!" shouted Richard, and indeed he was. She passed the ball, and it went sailing to him, and he caught it. But Richard wasn't the strongest, so it wasn't long before the other team got it.

Daisy rushed to the pressure point of the game. She tackled the guy who had the ball. Wrestling the ball from him, she ran across the field, passed the ball to Aaron, and scored the point.

"You _cheated!_" George, the one who had the ball, accused. "We're playing two-hand touch! You tackled me!"

"Suck it up, wimpy," she countered.

"Yeah, George, you're just sour because you got beat by a girl," Ryan informed.

"I am _not!_" George argued.

"Wanna come over here and prove it?!" Daisy challenged.

"Why wouldn't I, Flower Girl?"

A split second later they where on the ground, kicking, pulling hair, yelling curses at each other. The crowd stared down at George and Daisy, not wanting to interfere. They knew that once Daisy got angry, it was all over.

"Help!" George screamed as his hair that needed to be cut was pulled violently. Daisy kicked him in the stomach. George countered with a kick to the knees. Daisy had just started to bite his arm when a duty teacher noticed them.

"Break it up, you two!" she ordered, but they didn't listen. She grabbed Daisy by her arms and pulled her off of him, flailing and trying to get at him.

"She's insane!" George accused, pointing a finger. "Crazy cheater!"

"Shut up!" Daisy screamed. "I did _not _cheat!"

"Daisy, calm down!" the teacher demanded. "Let's take you inside."

* * *

A few minutes later, Daisy was sitting in a large chair, facing Principal Roland in his even larger chair.

"Miss Daisy, you know why you're here, right?"

"Y-yes, sir."

"You know what you did was wrong?"

"Yes, sir."

"Have you learned your lesson?"

Had she? Every day this happened. She would play football with the boys since all the girls in the school considered her an outcast. Her only friend that was a girl, Peach Toadstool, lived in a different city. Every day she got in an argument with the other team over who won. Every day it ended in bruises and blood.

But she could only give her principal one answer.

"I guess so," she murmured.

"Good." He scribbled some words on a piece of paper. "I'll give you a white slip-" 'White slip' was teacher for, Your parents are gonna punish you for this. "-to give to your folks. Get back to class."

"Yes, sir." Glad to leave the stuffy office, she almost ran back to the classroom, though running in the halls was forbidden.

She got to class just in time. Sitting in her seat next to a girl named Bethany, she got started on her spelling packet as instructed.

"Crazy Daisy," Bethany whispered.

"What?" she hissed back.

"Crazy Daisy." It sounded like a threat.

"Shut up, Beth," she retorted.

* * *

The bell had rung. She was free!

Skipping to the back of the school where she could walk home and enjoy the afternoon, she saw two students who normally didn't walk home - George and Ryan.

"Hey guys," she greeted, moving on, not wanting to waste time.

"Hey, Crazy Daisy!" George said nastily.

"Why the hell is everyone calling me that?!" she asked fiercely.

"Because you _are,_ right, Ryan?" George nudged his friend with one elbow.

"Yeah, whatever..." Ryan muttered.

"What makes me crazy, you little whiny jerk?" she challenged.

"For starters, you're ugly. Look at those splotches on your face!" George made a gagging face.

"T-they're freckles..."

"Nobody else in the fifth grade has them," he countered. Ryan pulled his scarf up closer to his nose to hide his faded freckles.

"They're not ugly! _You're _ugly, you snot-nosed punk!" Daisy shouted.

"And for another thing, you play football." He acted as though he didn't hear her. "Girls don't play football."

"_This _girl plays football," Daisy contradicted. "What do I look like? A _guy?!_"

She swung her backpack at his face, and stormed off.

* * *

The next day, Daisy had forgotten and forgiven, as she did every person who crossed her after one day. She skipped to the football field and was just about to pick up the ball, when a foot stepped on it.

She looked up. George.

"Can I have the ball, please?" she asked.

"Don't you get it?" he threatened.

"Get what? That you're standing on the football?"

Some of the boys behind him snickered.

"Shut up, guys," he ordered. "Go away, Daisy. Nobody wants you here."

Daisy was lost for words. One one hand, she wanter to clobber this guy until she _made_ him shut up. On the other hand, she wanted to run to the boundry fence and lean against it, and just cry.

She skulked away.

Sitting on the boundry fence, shunned by sociaty, she cried slightly, but not enough for anyone to notice. She stared at the football players, wanting so desperately to join them, but not being able to.

That day, she came to a conclusion.

As hard as anyone tried to beg her, she wouldn't forgive anyone easily.

**See, they're supposed to tell aspects of the character. Like it?**

**Anyone wanna request who to do next? It'd be helpful. Because I only have one more idea and many more starting points.**

**Um, all I can say right now is...**

**~Goodbye! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Alrighty, you want Luigi? I'll give ya Luigi.**

**In this, I want to find out why the heck Luigi is so meek. So I'll just get a concept, and see where it goes from there. I think that in his earlier years, Luigi wasn't so shy. But then, a certain event happened that... something happened after that, I guess. **

**The crowd description id accurate. I go to New York a lot, and sometimes the city, so I know how claustrophobic it can be...  
**

**Okay, so it's 8th grade. Brooklyn, New York. 1987 or so.  


* * *

**Luigi and Mario walked to school, Luigi smiling wide. "Today is gonna be a great day!" He felt sure of himself. Today he had a plan.

Mario sniffed, then coughed. "Smells like Monday to me."

"Today is not just a regular Monday. Today I will finally tell Jessica that I-"

"Love her to death, would jump off a freaking 500 foot cliff for her, blah blah blah. I've heard this all before."

"Act up a little. You're making me feel depressed."

"It's 8:00, Luigi. What did you expect?"

"Whatever." Luigi pointed to some tall buildings in the distance. "You can't see it from here, but in that direction is the Empire State Building. I'm gonna invite her to come there after school today."

"How are you gonna get Mom the let you go?"

"I asked Dad," he reasoned. "When we're up there, I'll see if she wants to be my girlfriend."

"Something like that happens every day. Which is why I think New York is so boring."

"There's a difference between being bored and being _boring,_" Luigi informed.

"Yes, I'm up to date on my grammar, thank you."

They arrived at school. "Seeya!" Luigi said cheerfully.

"Good luck."

* * *

"Hi, Jessica," Luigi greeted later that day at lunch.

"Hey, Weedge," Jessica replied.

"So, you doing anything after school today?"

"Nothing. Why?" she asked almost expectantly.

"Um..." He got nervous. Why was this? He almost never got nervous. "I-I was wondering, if maybe... you and I... could perhaps... d-do something after school?"

"I'd love to!" she agreed. "I'll meet you at the side doors after school."

"Alright, see you there!" He felt so much better now that he had asked.

* * *

Luigi practically ran to the side of the school to meet his long-time crush. Sure enough, she was standing there- but not alone. Her friend Mikayla was there, too. He didn't think too much of it.

"Hey, Jessica... Mikayla."

"Luigi." Mikayla almost ignored him. She whispered something to Jessica. She nodded.

"Weedge, I think I'm gonna have to cancel," she informed him, twidiling her thumbs.

"Oh. Maybe tomorrow, then?"

"Busy then, too."

"The next day?"

"No."

"Oh. Why?"

"B-because... Well... I don't think we should be friends. Y'know... You're just... Y'know..."

"Unpopular? Geeky? A _freak?_" Mikayla offered. "I can go on."

"Screw this! And screw _you!" _Luigi exploded. He turned and was about to leave, when Jessica ran and, well, glomped him.

"Let's go to the city, you kiss up," she said in his ear. She helped him up, and they walked off.

* * *

"Ignore Mikayla," she told him as they where walking down the streets of New York City. "She's always been a jerk. But she's my friend, so..."

"Yeah. Sometimes you _can't _choose your friends," Luigi agreed.

"Yeah. I've seen people follow you around before."

"Hm. Doesn't happen all the time. I'm not popular enough."

"Yes you are. Almost, anyway," she informed. She stopped and looked up. "We're here."

Luigi looked up too. It was the biggest building he'd ever seen in his life. Up close, it looked much taller than in pictures.

"Well, let's get in line," Jessica reasoned, heaving a sigh at the prospect of standing in the line that seemed to stretch for miles.

They got in line. This line moved fairly quickly, so they where inside in less than 5 minutes. That's where it started.

The crowd. Writhing, complaining, talking, pressing in on all sides. Luigi felt lost it the mass, like he couldn't breath. He broke out in cold sweat, looking all around for Jessica.

She grabbed his hand. "Don't want to get lost, do we?" she said sweetly. She examined his facial expression. "You okay?"

In his panic, he didn't hear her at first. When he had registered what she said, he replied, "Just a little claustrophobic."

"More like a _lot _claustrophobic," she argued. "Maybe we should go somewhere else..."

"No, no, I'm fine," he assured her.

The rest of the line mover a little slower than the first. But pretty soon, they where in the elevator, headed to the tallest observatory. When they passed the 82nd floor, their ears popped.

Finally, they where at the top.

The crowd was no better here. It has thinned somewhat, but it was just as pressing.

They veiw was spectacular. You could see everything, from the Crystler building to the Statue of Liberty. The cars looked like matchboxes, moving along the streets and picking up microscopic specks of humans.

"Let's look through the observatory glass!" Jessica exclaimed. She took a quarter from her pocket and inserted the coin into one of the looking glasses. "Woah! You can see everything through this!"

Luigi looked through it next. t was true, everything was crystal clear. But he wasn't focusing on that. As he looked through the glass, people where still bumping into him. He took his eyes off the glass as the time ran out.

"Are you okay, Luigi?" Jessica asked warily, but Luigi didn't answer. Instead, he stuck his head through the suicide gate and threw up over the side of the building.

"Luigi! What the-?! That could burn up before it hits the ground!" Jessica scolded, surprised and disgusted at the same time.

Luigi just kept his head there, shaky hands still grabbing the bars, breathing heavily. "L-lets go, please..."

"Yeah, let's get out of here."

* * *

"Didja hear the news?" his brother asked him once he got home.

"No, what?" Luigi asked.

"Someone- woah, you look sick," Mario observed.

"Tell me!"

"Hm." He went back to watching television.

"Did you even finish your homework?" Luigi inquired.

"Well, _Mother, _since you ask, I'll go finish it now." He got up and turned to leave the room.

"No! I change my mind! Tell me the news, I like your D-plus average the way it is!" Luigi reconsidered.

"Well, when you put it that way, I'll tell you." He tossed the remote up and down. "Some guy was injured when something dropped over the side of the suicide bars of the Empire State Building. Some substance of something, I wasn't really paying attention... But apparently he's not doin' too good. Another one bites the dust."

"Oh. Wow. Gosh."

"Why so surprised? It's the news, bad stuff happens," Mario informed.

"Um... I'm gonna go in my room and hide for a few years..."

"Have fun. We'll give you soup in a can when you start starving."

**The endamundo. Well, for this story anyway. Like it?**

**Welps, who next? It's up to you guys.**

**Ignore the scene divider at the end. I screwed up. **

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

**Mario? Good, I've been waiting. I've got a good one for him. More character torture, in other words. **

**I want to let some stuff out... Stuff has been happening in my life, and I'm just feeling lonely... And then I thought, what a perfect time to write. **

**Also, I'm thinking of including the words "shit" and "bitch" into my writing.**

**The x-ray joke is from Futurama.  
**

**Hope ya enjoy.**

**

* * *

**_The mane cast of Shakespeare's _Romeo and Juliet _had exxelent... _No, _excellent_ was spelt with one x... or was it two?... _exellent dialoge and great suporting... _

"Y'know what? Screw this piece of shit..." Mario murmured under his breath, and stuffed the homework into his backpack. He was supposed to meet Wario near the high school anyhow. He walked out of his bedroom.

"Mario, did you finish your homework?" his mother asked him as he walked out the door.

"Yep," he lied. He was an excellent liar.

"Alright, have fun. Be back by 6:00."

"Alright, Mom," he promised.

* * *

"What took you so long?" Wario asked.

"I was busy," Mario informed him.

"Well anyhow, look what I got!" He held up two pairs of glasses. "X-ray glasses!"

"Oh, I got some of those before. They couldn't see through people's skin at all." He shuddered. "Only their clothes. You wouldn't imagine the majority of people who don't wear underwear."

"That's the point of these!" He sounded like it was obvious. "We look at a few good-lookin' women with these, and _boom, _free nudity."

"...Ew. You go first."

"Alrighty then," he said, glancing at a glamorous, but rather large woman. He popped on the glasses.

"AAAUUUUGGGHHH!!!!" Wario screamed, tearing them off.

"What?" Mario asked.

"That's no lady!"

Mario laughed at his expense. "What time is it?"

Wario checked his wristwatch. "Almost 6:00."

"Hm. I guess it wouldn't matter if I was a little over curfew," he reasoned.

"Yeah, but _I _gotta get goin'. Mom's making pie for dinner!" Wario said excitedly. He walked off after remembering this fact.

"Oh sure, leave me alone..." Mario muttered, kicking a nearby rock.

It was getting quite dark. He ignored this, advancing into the unfamiliar neighborhood. Usually nobody noticed if he was over curfew. But as it got darker and the streets became more and more deserted, he silently prayed that someone back home would come looking for him. He remembered what a D.A.R.E. officer had told the class. _Brooklyn is one of the most dangerous places in the country. _

He heard a noise on his left. Looking to this side, he unthinkingly turned to go investigate.

He noticed people whispering on all sides of him. Backing into a wall, he realized he'd walked into a trap. There was no way out.

"So, you got any money, kid?" someone asked him.

He didn't answer. He couldn't.

"What, you're not gonna answer? Don't make me come over there and use my knife on you, kid!"

He screamed. Someone would _have _to hear him, or he was going to die for sure.

"Shut up!" A figure walked toward him. "Don't I know you from somewhere?"

"...R-Raymund?" Mario guessed.

"Oh yeah, you're that short kid." Yep, it was him. Raymund was the school bully. He was the one who prowled the streets at night, searching for victims to steal from. And if they had nothing to steal, then... Mario couldn't bear to think any further.

"So anyway, got any money for me?"

Mario felt around for his wallet. He'd left it at home. "N-no, sir."

"Shut up with all the formal talk. Gimme the money."

"I d-don't have any."

He pressed a small blade to his throat. "Howabout now?"

"I'll get it to you tomorrow! Please!" Mario begged.

"Sorry, but that's not gonna cut it. Now, you gonna gimme some green stuff, or am I gonna leave you bleeding in the street?" Raymund asked him.

Mario, in a desperate attempt to save himself, kicked Raymund between the legs, right in the balls. The arm that had held the knife to Mario's neck slipped up slightly, giving him a gash, as Raymund he sank to the ground in surprised pain. Mario ran away as fast as he could.

He saw a dark blue car driving down the street, and he tried to wave it down. When it stopped, he realized it was his dad driving the car. In his panic, he'd forgotten the car belonged in his driveway.

His father stopped and got out of the car. "Get in," he ordered sternly. Mario obeyed. He was holding his bleeding wound to keep from getting red on the seats, as that would make his father even more upset.

"Here." He handed him a paper towel from the glove compartment. Mario accepted it.

Finally, he decided to speak. "Where the hell where you? Your mother and I where worried sick."

He didn't answer at first.

"Well? Answer me!" he demanded. "You're not too old to be punished, you know."

"I don't really have a reason. I thought you guys wouldn't notice."

"Not notice? Of course we would. We care about you deeply." His grip on the steering wheel tightened. "But boy are we gonna kill you when we get home."

* * *

"Mario! How did you get a cut there-?!" his mother asked, worried, but Mario kept walking, and slammed the door to his room. He lied on his bed and thought through the things that had happened lately.

_I'm flunking 9th grade, I almost got killed, my dad hates me, and life in this city sucks. _

Well, that was wonderful.

"Hey, Mario-"

"Get the hell out, Luigi!" he yelled at the slight opening of his door.

"I was just gonna ask what you wanted to drink!" he explained frantically, and ran away.

Great, on top of that, he was a jerk.

Well, maybe he could help on improving by doing his homework. He pulled the slightly crumpled lined paper from his backpack.

_The mane cast of Shakespeare's _Romeo and Juliet _had __exellent dialoge and great suporting..._ Dammit, how did you spell characters? Oh well, he had already spelled the rest of it wrong, why start perfecting this hopelessness now? _... caracters and... _

He wrote on and on into the night, ignoring his family when they told him to come out for supper, and pretty soon he had two pages of text. Was his teacher going to be impressed.

* * *

"Mario, honey?"

"Huh? Mom, what time is it? Am I late?!" He rolled over in bed.

"No, it's still nighttime," she assured him.

"What? Then what're you waking me up for?" he inquired, annoyed.

"Do you want to talk? Is there anything you want to tell me?" she asked.

"No, why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason. Have a nice sleep," she said. She left the room.

* * *

Mario woke abruptly. He had a weird dream.

In the dream, a beautiful blonde girl who looked more like a fairytale princess than anything, was screaming for help. And then she was gone. He tried to find her, but she was nowhere to be seen. A low laughter rang in his ears. It sounded like Raymunds, but mixed with something else... And that was when he woke up.

He rolled over a fell back asleep.

* * *

The next day at school, in English class, he handed in his essay.

"So, Mr. Double dinally handed in work?" His teacher had nicknames for everyone in the class, and he was called Mr. Double because of his duplicate name.

"Yep," he agreed, equally surprised.

"Well, this is a nice change of events."

* * *

The next day they got papers back. His was a C-minus, with 10 points taken off for incorrect spelling.

Well, it was a start.

* * *

**Yeah. I just wanted to get rid of that.**

**Who next? Though I think I know who you guys want...  
**


End file.
